Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(50)

She was protecting him from himself.

Her wearing his jacket. Her protecting him. Her smiling at him; a secret smile that only the two of them knew the meaning behind it.

His breathing grew uneven. Then he found himself picturing her naked again, seeing her standing there in his bathroom doorway, her hair wet, hanging long down her body, her huge breasts, tipped in large dark nipples, heaving with deep breaths, the dark triangle of hair covering her *…

His dick punched forward.

“What…the…f*ck.”

Dirty shoved at Cox, whose face had suddenly appeared only inches in front of his own.

“Seriously, brother,” Ripper said, having joined them, studying Dirty. “I didn’t know you had skin under all that f*ckin’ hair and filth.”

“You are Dirty, right?” Cox continued, looking him up and down.

“Naw, dude,” Ripper said, grinning. “He ain’t. He’s clean.”

Cox snorted. “Nice one,” he said and held up his fist. Ripper bumped it with his own and then they both went back to studying him.

“Fuck off,” he muttered to both of them. “And back the f*ck up.”

Cox shrugged. “Whatever, dude, but you know, I can’t really help myself. You’re lookin’ really f*ckin’ sexy.”

The corner of Dirty’s mouth lifted and he started to relax for the first time in days. At the club he could be the man he wished he really was. He could shoot the shit, joke around, talk about women the way the other boys did. It didn’t matter that it was all show and that most of his brothers knew how shit really went down for him in the bedroom. Not that any of them knew why he dosed the club sluts, but neither did they ask.

“Speakin’ of sexy,” Ripper said. “Ellie kinda bottomed out in the ass, yeah? Whatcha doin’ with her anyway? Is that what this meeting’s about?”

“I’d still f*ck her,” Cox said. “Her face is still bangin’. Who gives a f*ck about her ass?”

Ripper burst out laughing. “Dude, you just miss ass ’cause your old lady ain’t got one.”

“Fuck you,” Cox shot back. “I miss *. Period. I don’t give a f*ck what’s packin’ in the back, I just want some goddamn f*ckin’ *. I’m ’bout ready to blow and fill Kami up with all the f*ckin’ spank juice she wants.”

“Fuckin’-A,” Ripper said, backing away, looking disgusted. “Keep your Sparky Marky and the Spunky Funk stories to your f*ckin’ self.”

“I am!” Cox shouted. “That’s the f*ckin’ problem!”

“MEETING!” Deuce roared, spurring the three of them into action, jogging across the room and into Deuce’s office. The table was filled except for Ripper and Cox’s designated seats, so Dirty headed for the back of the room and took a seat beside Anger on one of Deuce’s two leather sofas.

Once everyone was seated and had shut up, Deuce turned to him. He watched his prez give him a long once-over but, unlike everyone else, Deuce didn’t comment.

“Tell ’em,” Deuce said. “Start from the beginnin’.”

As if it weren’t bad enough they were all staring at him like a circus sideshow freak.

But he sucked it up, his all-over-the-place emotions and crazy thoughts, and explained to everyone what had gone down. From his ride, to hearing Ellie scream, to finding her in the alleyway with Officer Dipshit, to today on the street. He told them all of it and what he missed, Deuce filled in for him.

“Yeah,” Tap said. “Fucker is definitely playing games. He musta made you in that alleyway, Dirty, knew the Horsemen had her from the get-go. Ain’t no man stupid enough to take it to this level on a f*ckin’ hunch.”

“He knows we need him for this deal to go through,” Ripper said. “I guarantee he’s gonna play that card tryin’ to get at Ellie.”

“You think he’s gonna try and pull a trade?”

“What f*ckin’ else? He might have a hate hard-on for us, but we’ve been fillin’ his pockets for too long now, him and his parents. Ain’t no way he’s gonna bite the hands that feed him by tryin’ to turn us in to the Feds. Nah, this is about him gettin’ to Ellie.”

Dirty stayed silent, just listening to his brothers talk it out, shooting ideas and possible scenarios back and forth, trying to figure out what Mooresville was really up to, until someone said something and he lost his shit.

“Who gives two f*cks about the fat black chick?” Bucket said around a mouthful of smoke. “We need this f*ckin’ deal to go down easy. We got too much cash ridin’ on this shit and if anyone, the Feds, the ATF, anyone gets wind of what’s about to go down here, we are f*ckin’ through. We can all kiss this club good-f*ckin’-bye. Let’s cut our f*ckin’ losses and just give ’im the bitch.”

Dirty didn’t think, he just reacted, and he wasn’t even too sure as to what he’d actually done. One minute he was listening to Bucket run his mouth, and the next everyone was shouting and he was hauled off Bucket, his fists still swinging. Bucket jumped to his feet and Dirty tried to lunge for him again.

Deuce slammed him backward into the wall and held him there.

“What the f*ck, brother!” Bucket yelled. “What the f*ck I do to you?”